Sue was on her way to the dentist. It was the first time she’d had to have a filling since, well, she couldn’t remember, before university anyway. Not since she had ready access to her mum’s snack cupboard. She daydreamed a bit about her mum, then blinked away the memory. Don’t cry. Hold it together you loon.
She walked past her old house on the way to the dentists. She hadn’t told them about her change of address in case that meant she had to find a new surgery. She’d never find an NHS one now, they were like gold dust these days. Her poor brother-in-law Dave lived out in the sticks. He looked like Shane McGowen now and he wasn’t even 50. Bloody Tories.
She noticed a magpie. Fuck. She looked around for a second. One for sorrow, two for joy. There was no sign of a second. Would Dave lose another tooth? Would she? Was this the beginning of her decline? Stop it.
But she was still looking for the second. She stopped walking, it might be worth just having a proper look.
She tried to appreciate how beautiful the magpie’s markings were. They were cool as fuck. Like little winged Siouxsie and the Banshees fans. Or maybe Bauhaus. She didn’t know Bauhaus, but they conjured up images of monochrome, edginess and blunt cut fringes. That was Siouxsie and the Banshees. Anyway, where’s your mate you little prick? She had one last look around before carrying on.
If she didn’t stop dawdling, she’d be late for this appointment. God, maybe that’s it? She’d miss the appointment. Maybe she had the time wrong? They were so strict about punctuality. She’d had one text, an online confirmation and a personal phone call to remind her about this appointment. And she’d already paid a deposit. She hurried along.
The practice had moved to a new building since she’d lived locally, and she wasn’t that familiar with the new estate. There were two different ways she could go, either one would get her there, but she wasn’t sure which was quicker. She picked the old faithful. Then after a few steps, doubled back, the other way was surely quicker? But she didn’t trust herself. Fuck, it’s happening again.
CBT would definitely sort this out, she thought, but as she crossed the road, she noticed another magpie. Could she count this as ‘two for joy’? Dream on. This one was too far from the first, it was double sorrow. Oh god, it was going to be bad- maybe the receptionist would shout?
She made it into the dentists on time and took a seat. So that’s good, that’s that bit ticked off. But now she was imagining other sorrowful eventualities. Maybe it would be really painful? Or maybe she’d need more work? More expensive work. Or maybe they’d make a mistake, and she’d end up like snaggle tooth Louie from that book she’d had as a kid.
She started a wordle to take her mind off things. Midway through the puzzle she googled ‘principles of CBT’. Fixing the faulty thinking.
The thing was, she knew it wasn’t about logic. Rationally she understood that if she needed more work on her teeth, it was due to a mixture of years of eating sugary foods, a lax attitude to nighttime brushing and genetics. Not the presence or absence of magpies. Obviously. She wasn’t a complete idiot. But to imagine seeing a single magpie and having the audacity to think that all would be well. My God! It filled her with anxiety. It might not be causal but maybe it was a sign? She took a deep breath. A sign from who? God? There was no God. And no heaven.
She knew this was the root of it, or course she did. But maybe? Maybe what? There was a god but instead of intervening in war or stopping climate change or disease They were focusing on a complex messaging system which used magpies to convey the outcomes of routine dental procedures to middle aged women. Get a fucking grip.
In his book ‘the denial of death’, the anthropologist Ernst Becker talks about how Freud lost his faith but then became superstitious. Dreaded the number 13 apparently. We all need something to believe in, however ridiculous. She’d been reading a lot about faith and death recently, different philosophies and perspectives. She wasn’t sure if it was helping or heartbreaking. She better understood what she was looking for but that didn’t help her find it.
On the bus home from an ‘okay’ dentist appointment she lugged her tired bones and frozen face home. She was still waiting for the dose of sorrow promised by that single magpie. She remembered taking the piss out of a schoolfriend who’d had Bell’s palsy. It would serve her right if her frozen face stuck.
She noticed a priest/vicar putting his recycling out in front of the church – she couldn’t tell if it was Catholic or not but if she had to guess she’d say it was. She’d gone past this church hundreds of times before but had never seen anyone around. Her bus was held in traffic, so she watched the priest going about his business. He seemed a bit stressed, or at least absorbed in his task. He was removing some of the rubbish from one box and putting it into the recycling. Then he redistributed the rest of it. Bin filing. She noticed domino’s boxes- always a head fuck. They’re cardboard but the grease on them means they can’t go in with the recycling.
Who was this priest getting dominos with? The bus pulled away and Sue imagined him sitting on a La-Z-Boy recliner with a pizza balanced on his chest and a can of carling on the go. Watching a boxing match. The thought made her smile. Well, it made her half smile, she had no idea what the other half of her face was doing.
A couple of days later Sue was returning from one of her ‘wellbeing walks’, when she found herself in the church. It was a catholic one, so she was familiar with the layout. She could light a candle for her mum maybe? But she didn’t have any cash. It was unlikely the lord took cards. She didn’t believe anymore, and she wasn’t a fan of organised religion but nevertheless she decided to sit down. She’d spend hours in churches as a girl, the smell was comfortingly familiar. She felt tears spring in her eyes. She missed believing in God and heaven.
“Zumba?” A cheerful voice interrupted her thoughts. She hadn’t noticed the priest come in.
“Pardon?” She frowned at him.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to make you jump! Are you here for Zumba? It’s in the hall. You get in through the side door, but I can let you in through this way if you like?”
For a moment Sue considered doing the Zumba class, so she didn’t have to talk to him. But that seemed extreme. And she didn’t have the right bra on.
“Erm, actually no” she said.
The priest’s face lit up
“Oh right, sorry! Don’t let me interrupt. Pray away!” he beamed at her.
“I wasn’t praying “she said quickly.
“Okay” He nodded, then took a seat on the row next to her.
“I’ll just nip in here, don’t mind me” he said in a stage whisper before kneeling down.
Fucking hell, now what was she supposed to do? How soon before she could get up and leave without looking rude? She got up slowly and carefully, but her coat and bag seemed to make an inordinate amount of noise.
The priest turned to her; ‘I haven’t seen you before I don’t think. I’m Matthew”. He stretched out his hand.
“Hello Matthew, I’m Sue” she shook his hand without catching his eye. “I haven’t been here before, I’m erm, just off now”.
“Oh, okay. I haven’t put you off, have I? Am I in your space- I can sit further away? I am very concerned that we make St Mary’s a safe and accepting space for all”
Sue looked at him. His face was so earnest “oh, that’s good” she said whilst wondering if it was really accepting of all. Even gay people? She felt churlish, “you aren’t in my space or anything- I was leaving anyway. I’m not sure why I came in. I’m not myself really”.
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. In what way? Maybe I could help”
Sue was keen to get away, but the eagerness to please on Matthew’s face was so blatant. She felt the need to engage a bit further.
“Erm, thank you, that’s kind but, well, I’m not a believer. And actually, I only came in here because I saw a single magpie outside and I was looking for a second in the graveyard. And then I felt a bit hopeless and sort of wandered in here by accident.
Fuck. That was a lot more than she had planned to share. It was the fucking magpie. Her sorrow would be an impromptu counselling session with a potential paedo. She immediately felt guilty for that thought.
“Oh right” he smiled, “One for sorrow, two for joy”
“Yes” she dropped her head, embarrassed.
“Three for a girl, four for a boy. At school I used to get so excited if I saw three. I’d be thinking, maybe Juliette Wilkinson will notice me. Or even speak to me. Then we’ll fall in love, get married, live happily ever, after the end”
Sue smiled at him. Her whole mouth was working normally again so she bust out one of her best.
“I know it’s silly” she said.
“Is it?” He seemed to be asking genuinely
“Well, maybe not for you, you believe in transubstantiation”.
He laughed “Ahah, a lapsed lamb”
She laughed, “Fuck off”. She immediately regretted saying it, even though it was in jest, but Matthew laughed.
“My word,” He crossed himself “telling a man of the cloth to ‘fuck off’ in the house of God. You’ve lapsed hard missy”
She laughed, properly this time, and so did he.
“I am so sorry, that was really rude. The minute it came out I was like, ‘what?”
“Pretty sure it’s a hate crime” he shook his head in mock despair
“I’m so sorry”
“I’m kidding,” he smiled “It’s nice when people talk to me like I’m just a bloke. They often do a ‘holy voice’. A sort of low reverent mutter”
She knew exactly what he meant. It was the voice her nan used to use to discuss hysterectomies.
“Oh well, if ever you need someone to tell you to eff off, I can be your go-to”
“I like that you modified your language to ‘eff off’ there, much appreciated. And if you ever need to escape a magpie, we’re always here too”
“Or for Zumba” She smiled
“Or for Zumba” He nodded and smiled back. “But only Mondays and Thursdays”.
Sue left the church. She felt lighter. Two magpies were squabbling in the tree above her head, but she didn’t notice.